


Don't Ask

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-28
Updated: 2007-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After becoming slightly addicted to <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/painted_whiskey/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/painted_whiskey/"><b>painted_whiskey</b></a>, I have blamed the lovely Laura entirely for making me actually <i>want</i> to read Andy Serkis.  I always said I would never write Andy, being on my very short list of non-writeable LOTRPS people.  I really, <i>really</i> hope Astin is not next, or I just may have to kill myself.  So yes.  Herein lies p0rn, for <a href="http://giddy-london.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://giddy-london.livejournal.com/"><b>giddy_london</b></a>'s birthday.  Since I'm not in Charleston and can't take you to Jestine's, this will just have to do.  Have a happy one, love, and many more!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Ask

**Author's Note:**

  * For [giddy_london](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=giddy_london).



There was no excuse for what happened. That should probably be said, right off the bat. But then, there rarely is an excuse for these things.

It was miserable weather, really bloody miserable. Flooding was postponing shooting, the Christmas break kept getting shorter and shorter, and the cast was essentially stranded in Queenstown, waiting for things to clear up. Sean and Orlando had made it out of the whole mudslide predicament, at least, but it was still impossible to stick to the normal shooting schedule, and so most of the cast had both Saturday and Sunday off, a glorious thing despite the circumstances.

Supposedly, it was Elijah and Dominic who first got the idea. Billy and Orlando soon got involved as well, though, and soon the news was making the rounds of the Fellowship and beyond: Hobbit Sponsored Porn Viewing Party, ten o clock Saturday night, Dom and Billy's room.

The suite Dom and Billy were sharing was fairly impressively huge, and there was a living room as well as a bed and bath, so by the time Orlando put in the first tape, there were a fair number of men spread out among the couches, chairs, and floor—all the hobbits except for Sean, who was expecting a call from Christine, Orlando, Viggo, Sean Bean, Ian McKellen, Richard Taylor from Weta, a couple of spare Orcs, a guy from wigs, Sean Foot, and even Andy Serkis, who was around for character consultation and had only been in New Zealand for a week or so.

The first few porns were just silly, one with a sci-fi theme and another "western." There was something with lesbians that was actually kind of hot for a few minutes, until a guy showed up on the screen and started into the most God-awful dialogue anyone could've imagined.

"It hurts us, precious! It hurts us!" Andy hissed from his spot on the floor, and everyone turned to look for a moment and then burst out laughing, because no one had really heard much of the Gollum voice yet, and he had just perfected it to what would be used in the film. Elijah gave him a hard thump on the back, grinning, and Sean Bean smiled around the edge of his glass of whisky, raising the tumbler in Andy's direction before taking a sip.

"All right then. Who's next? Need another contribution," Orlando announced, popping the lesbians and bad-porn-voice guy out of the VCR.

"Perhaps what this crowd needs is some entertainment of quality," Ian spoke up, smiling a bit mischievously as he produced an unlabelled tape and passed it over to Orlando. Dom raised a sceptical eyebrow from the chair he was perched in, bouncing in a crouch on the balls of his feet.

"Why do I get the feeling your definition of quality has nothing to do with tits and arses?" he muttered, earning a cheeky grin from Ian.

"Oh I assure you, dear boy—arses are most definitely involved."

That earned a collective groan from the room, but Orlando popped the tape in anyway, and soon silence reigned. The flick didn't have much of a plot, to speak of, though given the plots of the earlier selections that seemed to be a damned good thing. Instead, it immediately cut into a shot of two guys against the side of a brick building at night, one slightly larger but both rather masculine, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

Ian sighed with a satisfied smile, a few of the other men tried to look away, and Orlando licked his lips. Dom dropped from the balls of his feet to his arse with a dull thud, and Elijah suddenly started playing with a loose thread on his jeans with impressive devotion. Andy, sitting on a couch next to Ian, shifted in his seat and tried to tear his eyes from the screen, just as the slightly larger man pinned the smaller one to the wall and tore open his fly, head tipping back and a gasp leaving his lips that almost made Andy forget that the guy was just acting.

As the camera moved in for a tighter shot, the larger man's fist stroking back and forth slowly at odds with the urgent nature of the kissing, Andy shifted again in his seat, balling his hands into fists. This was why he'd been afraid to drama school, why he'd knocked a girl up about as quick as he could find one willing but was too afraid to marry her. He didn't want to give in to _this_.

On the screen, the larger man pushed the smaller to his knees, and the smaller struggled slightly, his hands gripping his partner's thighs white-knuckled until his head was pushed down on the larger man's cock and all attempts at protesting vanished as the camera moved in for a close-up.

Not all that realistic, Andy thought to himself—if he were that guy he'd be kicking and screaming, or perhaps trying to rip the guy's balls off bare-handed, but of course he wasn't, and this was porn, and it wasn't _supposed_ to be realistic. And Andy was completely, undeniably hard.

Dom glanced up when he stood, tugging on his shirt, and he quickly headed the kid off with a murmured, "erm, just going to the loo."

"Right then," Dom replied, his eyes flicking back to the screen, his normally jittery hands surprisingly still. As Andy hurried off to the bathroom, he mentally wondered at the fact that being turned on actually made Dom stiller, and then quickly cut the thought off, as he had no desire to think of the kid in those terms, and certainly not in this state.

In the mirror, his face was paler than usual, a little shiny in places, and he was slightly unnerved as he hadn't realised he'd been sweating. He wondered how obvious it was to others, the slight dilation of his pupils and the blood rising in his cheeks. And then he gave up, flipping the toilet lid down and sitting abruptly, popping his fly open to wank and trying resolutely to think of his girlfriend back in London, of the mother of his children.

"Oi!"

The door flung open before Andy had a chance to hide what he was doing, though he quickly pushed his flies back into place and covered himself with his hands, at least. And then he saw the look in Sean's eyes, the way the other man was pinning him in place with a stare, how bloody feral he looked, how _hungry_.

"Fuck…" he whispered, the sound swallowed as Sean stalked over and tugged him up from the toilet by the collar of his shirt and pressed him close with the other hand on the small of Andy's back, their lips crashing together sloppily and almost painfully with the mashing of teeth and complete lack of finesse. Their erections ground together without purpose but with a clear message—this is nothing. This is just sex. This is not to be talked about later. Ever.

Sean tasted like whisky and something else, and Andy found himself flicking his tongue further back into the man's mouth to chase the taste. Sean's legs were spread slightly, with Andy between them, and as Sean pushed him back against the wall, the towel bar digging in just below his shoulder blades, he realised that the position made it so that Sean didn't have to bend to kiss him. It was something of a courtesy, and something in his brain fired in indignation.

The sound that brushed past Andy's lips and reverberated into Sean's own as he flipped their positions and pushed Sean against the wall instead could only be described as a growl, and this time the kiss was biting and violent, Andy's hand groping below himself without forethought and pressing palm flat against the shape of a hard-on through one-hundred-percent cotton.

"Bloody Christ…" Sean gasped in between kisses, his own hands grabbing respectively at Andy's hair and his arse, his teeth pulling at Andy's bottom lip until he growled again and leaned forward, attaching his own teeth to Sean's ear.

Andy couldn't talk, didn't want to admit anything, couldn't get too close. But the man pressed between himself and the wall was bloody _gorgeous_, this much anyone could admit, straight or gay, and the hard lines of muscles felt good against his body, as long as he was the one doing the pushing. Andy knew how to push, that much was certain. Sometimes he pushed too much, and Lorraine in turn pushed his sorry arse to the couch, but here it was okay. It was hard, hot, heavy, almost anonymous and he had licence to push and to bite and to growl. If he thought he could manage it, he'd shove Sean to his knees, but he had too much love for his bits and too much fear of a Yorkshire man's teeth to try that one.

"How are we…?" Sean started, sneering in frustration before he could finish the sentence as Andy bit down on his neck, tugging sharply at Andy's hair and unbuckling Andy's belt with the other hand. He gave up doing it in reverse, and let Andy have a go himself, before he raised an eyebrow at Sean.

"Not taking my trousers off till I know what the fuck you're playing at, Bean," he warned, and Sean's eyes went dark again, that cold and almost heartless look that had Andy's dick twitching in his trousers in a strange amalgam of lust and fear.

"Don't get buggered by anybody," Sean replied in a harsh low almost-whisper.

"Me neither," Andy replied, standing his ground and backing up a bit, re-buckling his belt protectively and then crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't suppose you'd…?" Sean gestured to the floor, then to his own crotch, and Andy shook his head. "Right then. Come back here."

Andy raised an eyebrow, not moving, and then Sean reached out and grabbed him by both biceps, bodily turning him and slamming him this time against a bare spot of wall.

"Bloody well got to give me something," Sean growled, and this time his lips engaged Andy in an attack that was hot and demanding but much more controlled, a lick and suck and bite that had him shaking in spite of himself, pressing against the other man as Sean pushed his hips forward, reaching up to grab at the back of Sean's neck and scratching up under his shirt with the other hand, refusing to go down without a fight.

"Not the only one giving, mate," Andy snarled when he saw an opportunity, and then pulled at the front of Sean's shirt, pulling and spinning and moving backwards so that Sean stumbled and Andy could take advantage of the disorientation to slam him against the bathroom door. Sean rasped out a sound that might have been "fuck," but he was cut off by Andy's mouth again, by Andy's hands impatiently grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the door. Sean was bigger, certainly, but Andy had upper body strength to spare, and was blessing those days at the gym as he ground against muscular thighs and held his ground against Sean's attempts to struggle.

"Fucking…"

"No," Andy disagreed, rolling his hips pointedly against Sean's. "We're not."

Sean growled and managed to get enough leverage to push away again, shoving Andy face first over the sink and pushing his lower body up against the cabinets below. Andy grunted and then bit his lip on a gasp when he looked up, seeing Sean looking positively ravenous over his shoulder in the reflection, gripping the edge of the counter and grinding shamelessly against Andy's arse.

"Bloody fuck, Bean," Andy cursed as Sean dropped his head and bit hard at a spot just to the left on Andy's neck, sucking until blood welled just underneath the surface. "You want my fucking girlfriend to see that?"

"You want my fucking _wife_ to see _this_?" Sean spat back at him, holding up one hand to point out the mark Andy had left on his own neck. "Match set, mate."

Andy growled again and spun and pushed Sean desperately against the wall, grinding against his hip as he sucked this time, rather than biting, on the hollow of Sean's throat, smirking triumphantly when he felt the infinitesimal tremor in Sean's body. And then Sean was shoving again, and Andy had a brief moment to wonder why all this violence gave him such a fucking hard-on before he realised he was falling through air, and grabbed at the closest solid object available, which happened to be the shower curtain.

Sean didn't even look all that fazed as he fell into the large whirlpool tub after Andy, pushing the tangle of plastic curtain aside so that he could roughly get Andy's trousers open again and pull out his cock, and then do the same to his own as he kissed and bit and cursed.

"Give, Serkis. Just a little, damnit."

"Fucking eejit. Fucking bloody _brilliant_ bastard," Andy groaned, arching back as Sean grasped both their cocks in one large hand and squeezed, trying to stroke, not managing much but neither really cared. He leaned down and bit again at the exposed curve of Andy's neck, and then sucked Andy's lower lip between his own and growled in a voice that would make half of England swoon.

"Fucking come for me, you daft bastard. Come in my hand, c'mon."

Andy nearly whimpered at that, shoved his hips up hard, smashed their lips together in one last desperate attempt at dominance as his hand fisted hard in Sean's hair, and came, on and around and between Sean's long fingers. And then he watched, eyes wide, chest heaving, as Sean used the same hand to slick his own erection, eyes dark and hooded and still fixed on Andy as he leaned back against the tile wall and spread his legs decadently and finally came with one hissed "yes" into his hand and a bit on the coral-coloured shower curtain.

For a moment there was silence, blessed silence as they stared at each other and caught their breaths and tried to suss out what had just happened, and then they heard it. A slow clap, just outside the door, just one pair of hands at first but gaining in momentum until ten men burst into frenzied applause, Dom and Elijah's cheering distinguishable over the sound.

"Oh bloody _hell_," Sean cursed, smacking his hand to his face. And Andy almost lost it, seeing the look of utter disgust come over Sean's features as he realised just _what_ he had smeared all over his face, but as it was he managed to just snicker and reach for a sheet of toilet paper, passing it over with a small sympathetic smile.

"Cheers," Sean mumbled, smiling weakly in return, and Andy grinned, yelling over his shoulder in the direction of the door.

"Nothing to see here, you fucking wankers! Leave us in peace, yeah?"

And slowly, one by one or two by two in certain cases, the hotel room was vacated, even Dom leaving his own room to go hang out with Elijah for a bit so that Billy could sit in bed and pretend to be watching the telly when Sean and Andy emerged, sheepish, to go their separate ways. And when things started going bad for Sean soon after, and he ended up getting a divorce, everyone wisely decided not to ask questions. And likewise, no questions were asked when Dom suddenly asked Sean on a holiday when _Rings_ wrapped, or when Elijah suddenly bought every film Andy had ever been in on DVD and got rip-roaring drunk when Andy and Lorraine finally got married. It was better, in some situations, just not to ask.


End file.
